Sumangali’s BlogLife in the Sri Chinmoy Centre, and other stories...

On July 28th, renowned Olympians, peace leaders, artists and musicians came together in London to celebrate the Olympic spirit of peace and universal friendship, by unveiling the “World Peace Dreamer” statue – a bronze sculpture of Sri Chinmoy holding an Olympic-style peace torch.

Lately, as my father would say, I’ve been flat out like a lizard drinking, and it had probably better be a chameleon, considering the variety of circumstances I’ve found myself in.

I consider myself something of an expert on leafleting. Indeed I went pro at the age of eleven, door-to-door with my brother, earning tuppence a house. It was the first job I ever had, and I took it very seriously. Nowadays I don’t get paid at all per leaflet, but I have just the same feelings of dignity and satisfaction.

This story was first published in Inspiration-Letters #25, an online magazine of articles, written by members of the Sri Chinmoy Centre around the world. The theme for this edition is “Living in the Now”.

I was pondering the subject of humility this morning, and came across a passage by Sri Chinmoy, where he makes a clear distinction between humility and unworthiness. I realised there are so many different interpretations of the quality. What is the true meaning?

I did not have a religious or overtly spiritual upbringing, and I am grateful to my family for not forcing any beliefs on me, but it seems quite funny now looking back on my first childly interpretations of religion, not really having a clue what any of it meant inwardly.

Auspicious Good Fortune is officially launched today, 27th of April 2012. I thought I would tell you the story of how it came to be, as this is a tale of mysterious good fortune in itself.

I still go at least twice a year to visit the place where Sri Chinmoy spent most of his time – once in April and once in August. Some things are naturally different since his passing in 2007, but some things are still the same.

I was eighteen months old when advertisements came out for a major exhibition in London. The image on the station wall beguiled me: a gigantic burial mask, two wide eyes in frames of kohl, a gentle smile of gold and a collar of precious stones.

Dogs were my first obsession, and from the time I could talk, I repeated an ardent desire to have one of my own. In the innocence of youth, my parents decided to grant my wish just before my brother was born. They soon discovered it was not their greatest plan.